A Glimpse Of Kindness

A Glimpse Of Kindness
Chapter 27

A Glimpse Of Kindness

The gentle touch of curtains brushed against my body like the breathing of another world. I woke up to a darkened room lit by an ethereal golden glow—the late afternoon sunlight filtering in through heavy drapes. For the briefest instant, I did not know where I was. My leg throbbed with a dull pain, and every throbbing beat of my heart echoed in the temples of my head like the gentle drumbeat of a faraway beat.

It all came flooding back—the dinner, the whispered words, the shot, the commotion. The noise still echoed in my head, biting and merciless. I tightened at the memory, my chest constricting. My hand automatically went to my leg, throbbing across the broad bandage that wrapped around it.

And then a voice—low, soft, and breathtakingly near—

"You're awake."

I turned my head quickly, and there he was—the new Alpha. The man with unspoken confidence and piercing eyes. He sat by the window, sun on his face, shadow cast on the faint scar bisecting his jawline. His cloak across the armchair beside him, shoulders relaxed but eyes burdened.

I couldn't get my words out for a moment. The air was thick, tense, between us. Slowly he rose from his seat, the floor creaking beneath his boots, and walked over to me. His eyes swept over me—not with lust or wonder, but something more. Pity, maybe. Or recognition.

"How are you feeling?" he whispered.

His voice was powerful but held an odd gentleness that I wasn't accustomed to.

"I." I tried to talk, my throat hurt. "It hurts," I whispered, my trembly fingers pressed against the bedsheet. "But I'm alive."

He nodded solemnly. "You're lucky. The shot might have been worse. The doctor said you'll recover. but it will take time."

I stared at him for a long time, foggy confusion numbing my head. "Why are you here?" I finally asked, my voice trembling. "Where's Alpha Ronan?"

The question slipped out before I could catch it.

He didn't answer at once. Rather, he stepped back a couple of times, his jaw tightening as he turned away from me. "He went out," he answered flatly, his voice impossible to read. "Something urgent."

Something inside me tightened. I didn't know whether it was the pain in my wound or this empty, stinging ache that had spread across my chest. He left? After everything that had happened?

I bit back on my lip, trying to keep the tears already burning behind my eyes at bay. "Oh," I said under my breath, letting my head fall. My voice trembled. "Of course he did."

The silence stretched thin between us. The Alpha looked back at me, studying my face like he was trying to understand something beyond my words.

“What’s your name again?” he asked softly.

I hesitated, then whispered, “Lyra.”

He repeated it under his breath, almost testing the sound. “Lyra.” There was something in the way he said it—like the name carried a weight he recognized but couldn’t place.

Then, slowly, he dropped down on his knees beside the bed. The movement startled me and, instinctively, I tried to sit up, making a face from the pain in my leg. He noticed this and raised his hand warily. "Don't move. I won't hurt you."

I swallowed hard, unsure what he wanted, but something in his voice—firm and sincere—hibited me from pulling away.

Say something, he spoke finally, after he'd waited in silence for a little while. "Who are you? Why are you here, at this house?"

They were direct words, but his voice wasn't hard—only questioning, lost. "You're young," he continued, shaking his head slightly. "Too young to have the kind of shadows I can see in your eyes."

The words broke something inside me.

My mouth fell open, but nothing came out. His gaze pressed down on the weak spots of my façade until my lungs had to inflate. Quiet tears streamed down my cheeks before I could grab them.

"I…" My voice caught. "I don't know anymore," I breathed in pieces. "I was brought here. I didn't choose this. Every day is a test I never volunteered for."

He listened quietly, never interrupting. His gaze softened, though his position didn't change—disciplined, almost guarded, as if afraid of frightening me.

"I didn't look for the rumors, or the gossip," I said softly, my voice trembling. "I didn't look to be despised. I didn't look for people to say that I am cursed."

My breath caught as I dabbed my tears away with the back of my hand, but they only continued. "And yet… no matter how many times I try to show them I'm not who they claim me to be, someone else attempts to shatter me once more."

The Alpha's eyes glinted with something unspoken—anger, maybe, or sympathy. He clenched his jaw and edged a little toward the window, looking as if the world outside held the answers he did not.

Finally, he spoke quietly, "No one deserves that."

His voice was rough, deep, but there was truth in it—truth that cut through the quiet between us.

You said Ronan left," I whispered after a moment, my voice reed-thin. "Do you know where?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. But he was.fidgety."

I nodded weakly, pressing my hand harder over the wound. Pain anchored me to reality, reminding me that this wasn't a dream that I could wake up from.

The Alpha towered again, looking down at me with some unreadable expression on his face. "You don't belong in a world that still seeks to pain you," he breathed. "And yet you still exist."

He breathed deeply, the space between us heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"I wonder," he said softly, to himself more than to me, "how a girl such as you came to be in the middle of all this."

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

Because the same reason I also didn't know the answer.

Silence settled between us again, broken only by the soft hiss of the fire. I hid my face in the pillow, crying softly there. My heart was splitting down the middle—between gratitude for his kindness and fear of what his questions might mean.

The pain in my leg pounded with the rhythm of my heartbeat, but the pain in my chest was worse.

He took a moment longer to hesitate, his eyes on me, as if weighing whether to tell me anything else. Then, quietly, he added, "Rest. You'll need your strength. Tonight won't be gentle."

And before I could even voice my question—before I could insist that he tell me what he meant—he turned and moved toward the door.

The moment the door clicked closed behind him, I let out the sob I'd held within me. It emerged softly and ragged, filling the vacant space.

I curled my fingers into the blanket, trembling, as the weight of it all crashed down upon me.

I didn't know whom to trust anymore. Not Ronan. Not Kade. Not even strangers who had better information about me than I did about myself.

The one thing that was certain was that something ominous was coming.

And I could feel it—lingering just beyond the walls, waiting to strike.